Independence
by Optimistically-Hopeless
Summary: July 1, 1867. Matthew has always liked the idea of independence. But the one thing that he has always wanted the most is something that he might truly never be able to have. [One-shot]


Hello, dear readers! How long has it been? …About two years now? Well, good news; I'm not dead! :D I have just been really busy with school and life. I also have about 5 million and 2 projects in the works, some 2 years old, some very new! If you want to know more, go to my profile, I will give many more details there about possible upcoming projects!

This is a story that has been in my head for quite a while… and also on my computer for a long while too! I'm finally confident enough with it to upload it! July 1 is Canada Day, and that is the day the Canadian Provinces were able to conglomerate into one being—the lovely country we know as Canada today! While this is a work of fiction, if you find an inaccuracy or something that seems a bit off, don't be scared to let me know. I'm a history major (or at least working on it ;D) so if you want to give me a history lesson, go for it! I won't mind at all, and I love to learn.

Thanks so much, and please review! ^^

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_**July 1, 1867**_

His heart was pounding in his chest, beating so hard he felt like it just might explode. Today was finally the day. He had been trying to talk himself into this for months, even years now. He had to do it. He had to know what would happen if he did this. It was time for actions and answers, not fear and further procrastination. Taking in a deep breath to try and calm himself, Matthew knocked on the door before him, waiting for the answer from Arthur on the other side.

Almost one hundred years ago now, Alfred had demanded independence from Arthur. When he had asked for this, Arthur had gone absolutely mad. He had fought with all of his might to get Alfred back, to keep him at his side and never let him go, no matter what the costs. For as long as Matthew could remember, long before the Revolution, Alfred had always been treated better, and had obviously been loved far more than he had ever been by Arthur; by anyone.

But now was his time. For so long, he had wanted to ask for his independence as well, had wanted to be just as free and independent. But, even though he knew how much he wanted it, he was still so extremely nervous. What if Arthur got furious with him as well? What if he refused to let him go and started yet another war over it?

But there was another fear as well. What if his response was the polar opposite? What if Arthur didn't even care? What if he just let him slip from his grasp without even a second thought? What if he let him go because he had never truly cared about him to begin with?

Matthew was terrified of all of the possibilities that would happen. But what made him truly horrified was the fact that he didn't know just which possibility would become his reality. All he could do as he stood there waiting for Arthur to answer the door was to try and keep himself bolstered to the courage he had been building up for so long. There was no chance to leave now; he knew that, if he did, he would never be able to gather up this courage again.

In reality, it had only taken a few seconds, but they seemed to tick by at the rate of hours to Matthew. As the door finally slowly opened, he could see those vibrant green eyes peering at him curiously. Matthew had never been one to come and bother his superior on a regular basis, so he didn't blame Arthur for being a little bit startled at his sudden disturbance. However, a small smile came to the elder's face. "Good afternoon, Matthew," he greeted kindly, stepping back as he guided the door with him, motioning for the other to come in. "You can enter; come in and take a seat. I was doing some paper work, but I can set some time off to the side for you as well."

Matthew nodded slowly, trying to smile back politely, but his nerves only making his lips twitch unpleasantly. He carefully made his way past him into the small office, letting his head hang, unable to keep eye contact with the older for too long. He knew what he had to do—was determined to do it—but he could already feel the guilt seeping into his chest and his gut. He had directly witnessed Arthur become utterly crushed by Alfred leaving him, had seen firsthand the devastation it had caused him for decades afterwards. While he knew what he needed to do, he was still very scared of the possibility of hurting Arthur. "Ah, th-thank you," he murmured softly, quickly making his way to one of the padded seats placed before the Briton's desk as he sat down quietly, tightly linking his fingers together in his lap. He took a deep breath and a nervous gulp as made himself speak further. "I... I had a question that I wanted to ask you. If… if that's alright, of course."

Arthur seemed a little curious as to what the usually shy nation had to say to him, but he gave an understanding nod as, instead of sitting behind his desk, he pulled up a chair and sat beside him. "Alright. You can ask me whatever you'd like." He gave him a reassuring smile, seeming to be able to see the worry clearly displayed on Matthew's face. The Canadian tried to return the smile, but his nerves one again made him unable to do so. Taking another deep breath, he dropped his gaze again, clenching his hands together nervously.

"I... I've been wanting something. Um… f-for quite a while now. I just haven't been sure how to ask for it." He blinked back the warmth pooling in his eyes, trying to keep himself focused on the task at hand; not his nervous, anxious emotions crashing inside of him. "A-and I don't want to hurt you, because I know you've been hurt before. A-and I don't want to add to that pain."

"Matthew." The younger jumped as he felt a hand on his knee, his head shooting up and gazing at Arthur curiously. His jade green eyes had worry in them, looking concerned for the younger. "Love... you don't have to be so worried. Frankly, most days, I'm afraid you're just going to worry yourself sick over things." He gave another small squeeze to his knee, giving a soft sigh. "You can tell me whatever you would like. You don't have to be afraid of me, dear."

Blinking a few times, Matthew slowly nodded, gulping down the lump of his throat that was forming from his growing anxiety. "O-okay." He tried to relax his hands, but quickly clenched them together once more as they began twitching nervously. He had to focus; there was no backing out now. "I..." He took another deep breath, preparing himself for the words he was about to say. It was now or never. "Arthur… I want my independence."

There was silence for a while, neither nation knowing just what to say at first. Matthew felt Arthur's green eyes on him, the hand still on his knee, though now a bit stiffer than it had been before. He felt Arthur studying his face, trying to determine whether he truly meant the words or not. Matthew's knuckles were going white from how hard he was clenching his fists, trying to keep himself from beginning to tremble. He wanted to appear strong now, but he felt his fears ripping inside at the quickly disintegrating courage inside of him.

Arthur had to be furious. He was going to start screaming at him any moment now, asking him why he was doing this to him, telling him not to leave him, that he was the only person he had left. He was going to tell him he couldn't stand not having him in his life, that he was willing to do anything and everything to keep him. He was...

"Alright."

Still looking down at his lap, Matthew's eyes widened, his body going suddenly very stiff and cold. What had he just heard? Surely, he had misheard him. Arthur couldn't have just said…

"You can be independent."

No. He had said exactly what he had heard.

He was free. Free in the most painful of ways.

He was simply being let go. He was being let go of so easily.

He was being let go like he had never mattered in the first place.

"...Matthew?"

The younger jumped at his voice, finally looking up at him, feeling the hot tears coming close to falling from his eyes, down his cheeks. "Y-you... you're letting me go?" _You're letting me go without even trying to keep me?_

Arthur gave him a puzzled look at this response, his brows furrowing together in a curious, confused way. The look hurt Matthew even further. He didn't even look disappointed; he didn't look like he was losing anything. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

All of the anxiety about being yelled at came crashing down on Matthew. He had been scared of being reprimanded and punished. But now, he was wishing more than anything that at Arthur could at least show some remorse. He would have preferred the screaming; he was desperately wishing that Arthur would maybe even shed a tear. It was almost like Arthur didn't even care that he was losing him. It was like Matthew was a toy that he had grown tired of and no longer wanted. Like he was a piece of trash being tossed to the side, forgotten, no longer cared about; like he had never existed in the first place.

But his question had now been answered. Now he knew the answer.

He didn't matter.

He would never matter to Arthur.

He would never matter to anyone.

Before he could do anything to stop it, Matthew felt the hot tears that he had been trying so hard to hold back finally trickle down his face, for once in his insignificant life realizing how unimportant he was. He quickly and roughly wiped them away with his sleeve as he sprung to his feet, spinning to run towards the door. "I… I'll leave then. I'm sorry I've been such a burden…"

However, before he could make it even halfway to the door, he felt Arthur's iron grip on his wrist, trying to pull him back. "Matthew!" he called, taking a step forward as he spun Matthew around to face him. "Matthew! What is it? I don't understand!"

Matthew tried to pull away from him, not wanting to be here anymore. He just wanted to go back to his room and curl up, to pretend that he no longer existed. He didn't want to be here or anywhere anymore. He just didn't want to _be_ anymore. "Let go… p-please!"

"No!" Arthur quickly moved his hands to grip the taller's shoulders, stubbornly looking directly into his eyes, concern and worry plain on his face. "Matthew, please, tell me what's wrong! I don't like seeing you like this."

"Please…" Matthew was trying to keep himself as composed as he could manage, but he could already feel his shoulders quivering beneath Arthur's hands. Even now, he was trying to force himself to hold back sobs and cries of anguish. "Just l-let me go…"

"Not until you tell me what's wrong." Arthur continued to sternly stare up at him, making Matthew's heart break even further as he saw so much of Alfred in Arthur: the stubbornness, the inner strength, the confidence and knowledge that they could truly do something to change the world. No wonder he preferred Alfred so much. They were so much alike. Matthew, on the other hand, wasn't anything like Arthur. He was just a boring Canadian who could do nothing to help people; he was barely even recognized by others for anything that he had ever tried to do. He was nothing compared to Arthur. No wonder the Brit wanted nothing to do with him.

"I'm not important…" Matthew whispered, looking down and away from Arthur's painful, piercing stare. "I'm… I'm useless… No one would even notice if I was gone…"

"That is not true!" Arthur snapped, clenching tightly onto the younger's shoulders, tight enough to make his shoulders sting in pain. "Of course the world would notice!"

"They wouldn't care…"

"I care!"

Matthew gave a sob, now looking into Arthur's eyes with his own tearful ones. "No you don't!" he cried back, hearing the anger in his voice, but too pained now to care. "You've always cared more about Alfred than you will ever about me!"

The statement seemed to shock Arthur, his eyes going wide and his mouth opening without a word. He was searching for something to say in rebuttal, to disprove the statement, to say something, anything. But as the silence continued on, it only proved to Matthew just how true those words were. Not even Arthur could deny them. Arthur closed his mouth, looking sorrowful. "L-love… I care about both of you equally…"

"No, you don't." Matthew continued trembling further in both sadness and jealousy that had been building up inside of him for decades. He could see how Arthur was shrinking back from the words; how they were striking at his very core. But now, he couldn't bring himself to care; now, that same jealousy was making him say things he had wanted to say for centuries. "When Alfred asked for independence, you fought and gave everything to get him back! You had an entire war! You did so much for Alfred, and sank when you lost him! But when I ask to be free, you just toss me away! I don't matter to you! I _never_ mattered to you!"

Matthew paused now, both to let the truth sink in for Arthur, and to try to catch his breath back from his tears. The older was utterly silent now, his eyes glossy with unshed tears, his face even paler than usual. The hands that had been clenched on his shoulders now removed themselves, falling to Arthur's sides. Now as Matthew stared at his face, his anger having begun to fade, he could see the pain and remorse that the Brit had been lacking before. He had hurt him now.

"I can't do anything right, can I?" Arthur was whispering now, letting his head hang sadly. He couldn't even look him in the eye now. "Matthew… Hearing you ask for independence… That hurt me. It did. But then I remembered Alfred and…" He shuddered, bringing his arms up wrap them around himself comfortingly. "I… I wanted for you to feel free. I wanted for you to not feel pressured or trapped…"

The words took a few moments to fully translate in Matthew's head, staring blankly at Arthur. But as soon as they fully hit him, it felt like arctic water had just been poured into his stomach. He was trying to protect him. He was trying to not make the same mistakes that he had with Alfred.

As the truth hit him, Matthew trembled even more than he had before, feeling like his legs were going to give out from beneath him. "A-Arthur." He felt his stomach churn, feeling sick with guilt. How could he have done something like this? How could he have hurt Arthur so badly like this, for such a foolish, selfish reason? "I didn't…"

"Just go."

The two words sent an even colder chill through Matthew, wanting to scream as Arthur now turned away from him. He wanted to do like the Brit had to him, to grab him and turn him around, to apologize. But he simply could not. He had already hurt him enough. He didn't need to hurt him any further than he already had. "Yes, sir…"

Not sharing any other glances or words, Matthew turned away, heading for the door. He opened it and was making his way through it. However, Arthur spoke one last time before he left.

"You have freedom now, Canada. Please feel free to leave."

_Canada._

Arthur had just called him his country name. Something he hadn't done since he was a small child.

Taking a gulp, he nodded, choking back his tears. "Arthur… Britain… I'm sorry…."

With those last words, Matthew walked out the door, silently closing it behind him.

When he had entered that room, he had meant something to Arthur. He had been important—had been loved. He had had everything he had wanted in the first place.

But now; now, he was truly nothing.


End file.
